If Just For Six Hours
by Ethereal-Aria
Summary: She’d never regret those six hours and the things that passed between them during those three hundred and sixty minutes… Set during 'O, Brother Where Bart Thou'; their stolen moments in Blair's room. CHUCK/BLAIR
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **My dearest readers, hello and welcome to my story! It's been a very long time since I've posted anything on here and I feel very out of the loop - it's also my first time posting anything in the "Gossip Girl" section and I'm a bit nervous... I've read so many incredible and remarkable Chuck and Blair pieces on here and I can only hope that my attempt at writing these two phenomenal characters is at all readable! I love these two characters so much and after watching episode 2:13 ("O, Brother Where Bart Thou?") I needed more details. That scene near the end where Chuck is in Blair's room and she hugs him, they share a few hours together and I wondered what could have happened during those hours... Did anything transpire between them, or was there only silence? Well, my mind's been working for a while, and I've put together the six hours I think they possibly could have shared and how they brought them closer in a way that probably scared them both. Hopefully, you all enjoy it and for anyone reading, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for choosing to click on my story - it means the world to me. :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Miss Blair Waldorf, nor do I own Mr. Chuck Bass.

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**p r o l o g u e .**

_6 : 1 8 a . m . _

_- t h e - m o r n i n g - a f t e r -_

_He would never truly be hers._

_Blair had come to this realization as she held him last night. That heart of his was so broken and battered and large chunks of it were missing; chunks that she couldn't fill. Those great gaps in his heart had been ripped out by agonies buried in his past and they were never to be replaced; he had barely half a heart left… That was his downfall. She could tell he wasn't capable of the love she felt for him – a love without boundaries, a love that trusted implicitly, a love that gave without taking. That tattered heart in his chest was incomplete and would remain that way forever, but she didn't care; she would take whatever love he could give her because she knew that whatever love he was able to muster was a miracle. Perhaps... Perhaps if she could tend to his frail heart, nurse those leftover shreds into something that was devoid of pain and bitterness, then he could love just like her… However, somewhere deep down she knew, she knew, that there was no way he could ever be rid of the dark shadows in that heart; they would always be there. As much as he loved her – for she knew that he loved her - he would never be able love her fully because of his broken heart and the demons inside it. She knew that… _

_But she didn't care. He had been here. He had been with her. He had slept on this bed, laid in her arms, shed tears on her pillows and on her shoulder and he had talked to her. Just a little, but he'd really talked to her. He hadn't fired witty remarks, or hissed heated insults, or even bit out cold snubs, but actually told her things. Things about him, things he was feeling or thinking… Things on his mind and that he'd felt like sharing. She knew he didn't share often – if, at all – and this meant the world to her. Wherever he was now, wherever he'd decided to go… She knew he'd come back…_

_He had to._

_No matter what happened, however, she'd had him all to herself, the way she'd always dreamed of, for six whole hours… Six hours she'd never get back, but six hours she'd cherish always… Six hours they spent together in a way they'd never spent time before; in an understanding, peaceful – dared she say it – loving way. She'd said things… Things she'd never even imagined herself uttering to anyone – let alone Chuck Bass – but she'd meant everything and she knew he had too. She'd never regret those six hours and the things that passed between them during those three hundred and sixty minutes… Everything was different now, but she didn't care – she didn't care. Those hours – those precious, precious hours – were everything to her. _

_Inwardly, she damned Chuck Bass to Hell for leaving her again and for the break in her heart she knew he was responsible for; however, curled up in the sheets he'd slept in, she also prayed for his safety and thanked him silently for choosing her as his shoulder to cry on... How she wanted him back _now. _She thought of Ian McEwan's novel _"Atonement" _and the heroine Cecilia's most memorable line, "_Come back to me... Come back to me..."

_"Come back to me," whispered Blair in the crushing emptiness of her room. She knew she was being stupid - incredibly and utterly stupid - but felt like the words _meant _something. They felt weighty and powerful and the knot in her throat made them all the more real... "Come back to me..." she murmured again and she was so caught up in how much she _felt _those words, she forgot how moronic she was being..._

_She did love him, after all._

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**Final note: **Well, that was pretty short, but I have six more chapters on the way! I just needed this to set everything up, but I promise some Chuck and Blair interaction starting soon! Please, if you could leave a little comment that would be more than wonderful; it's your feedback that keeps me going and just let me know if you're enjoying it so far, if you'd like me to continue, if I should do something a little differently... Anything! The reader is the person who matters the most! :)

Thank you!


	2. their first hour

**Author's note: **My most darling readers and to those who left comments, thank you! The fact that you decided to give my piece a try means the world and more to me and I thank you from the bottom of my heart! I'm quite excited to get this story rolling and here is the first chapter! Hopefully, you all enjoy it and I sincerely hope that it prompts you to keep on reading! This chapter goes back in time from the prologue; it basically starts from the part where Blair finds Chuck in her room and continues from there. And with that, I sincerely hope that you like it and don't be afraid to tell me otherwise - I would love to hear from you; compliments as well as constructive criticism (please, keep it construction, though!) :)

**Disclaimer: **I still do not own the characters of Blair Waldorf or Chuck Bass. :(

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**c h a p t e r 1 .**

_1 2 : 0 8 a . m ._

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Blair Waldorf stormed into her room at a breakneck pace, heels clacking ferociously against the hardwood floor. "What do you think you're doing here?" she demanded in an imperious tone before having the wind knocked out of her by the very sight of him.

There was Chuck Bass simply sitting on her bed. Still dressed in the same clothes he'd been wearing earlier that day (and most likely the day before), he sat, his shoulders hunched and back curved over like the homeless people she usually ignored on the streets. Did he think that he could come here after breaking her heart and just –

At that moment, he looked up at her and she saw his eyes. Time stopped and for a moment, she lost track of her breathing; she had never seen his eyes like that before. The edges were traced with scarlet, the flesh around them was swollen and those dark eyes of his shone and shimmered in the dim light of her bedroom. Her blood came to a screeching halt in her veins as he merely looked up at her. She saw brokenness in those irises of coal she hadn't seen this afternoon. When she'd last seen him by his limo, his stare had been cold, harsh and glazed over by alcohol; now, the eyes boring into hers were broken, helpless and so, so lost.

He looked at her and she saw the tears glimmering in his black eyelashes.

He looked at her and she saw how he was saying, _"I need you,"_ without saying a word.

He looked at her and she loved him more than she ever had before.

It was like his gaze stripped her of her anger toward him and she was pulled – as if by some unknown force – to him. She was immediately at his side and she took him in her arms as someone would their child. She cradled his head to her chest and seized his arm in an almost violent gesture. Grasping at the material of his jacket as if wishing to rip it away and feel his skin or transfer some of the warmth in her touch to him, Blair unconsciously rocked him gently in her embrace and she nestled her head next to his ear. Inhaling the faint scent scotch on his breath and the salt of his tears, she also detected a faint hint of smoke and the musty smell of clothes that had been slept in. She didn't care, though - to her, he smelled heavenly and so like… Chuck. It was a sharp, sad smell and it tugged harshly at her heartstrings.

Had he always smelled like that? Like… sadness?

His body relaxed against her and she felt his back expand and slowly deflate in a sigh… Suddenly, he laid his head on her shoulder and she felt an overwhelming urge to cry. Quelling the sobs that had somehow floated up and lodged themselves in her throat, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip on him. She was trying to say, _"I'm here. I love you. You'll always have me…"_ but she wasn't sure if he understood…

Clutching again at his sleeve, she almost started in shock as his hand came out of nowhere, covered hers and squeezed her fingers _hard_. His grip was deathly and painful, but she relished it; it was real and it seemed to both anchor her to this world and bind her steadfastly to Chuck. He clasped his fingers around hers even harder still and she merely returned the intensity of his grip with the ghost of a smile hanging on her lips. Maybe she could make him feel like she didn't want him to leave or fade away… Maybe she could make him feel like he was wanted and needed and loved just as much as he'd always wanted to be… Maybe.

She squeezed harder.

Bending her head forward, she planted a soft, lingering kiss on his clothed shoulder just as he had on her seventeenth birthday in an effort to comfort her… She thought of all the wasted time in between that seventeenth birthday and now and almost wanted to physically punish herself for letting all that time go by without being with him… They could have had so much time together if they'd just forgotten or forfeited that_ stupid_ game, but they hadn't… Whenever one was ready, the other was scared. Whenever one gave, the other one took. Their relationship over the past year or so had been nothing but pushing and pulling, winning and losing and smirks and sneers. It was as if they didn't know how to just be together and let that fact alone be enough. They'd been on separate teams the entire time… why couldn't they have been on the same one? They were so focused on winning, they always somehow lost.

Stroking the damp skin of his cheek, she felt new tears drip onto her thumb. Wiping them away, she whispered, "Its okay…" and she felt him stir. "Just let it out."

He shook his head. Still, more tears fell and she caught them all and rubbed them into her skin. "Really," she said softly, making her voice as gentle as she possibly could, "I don't mind."

"I can't," he croaked and her heart tore at the sound of his deep voice marred by sleepless nights, liqueur and loss.

"It's okay," she repeated, holding him closer to her, "I won't tell a soul… You can trust me, Chuck. You know that."

"I –" he choked out, but didn't finish. She could tell that he'd wanted to say something horrible that would get her off his case, but he'd caught himself. Perhaps he knew that he couldn't get rid of her…. Perhaps he knew that _she _knew he didn't mean half the things he said… Perhaps that was his way of saying 'I love you' in return… He let out a long breath, "I know you won't," he admitted so quietly she barely heard him.

"Then go ahead. It'll be our secret," she grinned sadly, placing a little kiss on the angle of his jaw. Blair's heart was beating so fast she marveled at how she hadn't yet passed out; he was here… He'd come to see her… Would this change anything or would they go back to being the same as they were before? Did this mean that he loved her too? He must… He had to… She felt like crying too and she could barely explain why. God… She loved him…

There was a pause that lasted about two minutes until a tiny tremor coursed through Chuck's body. Again, another rippled through his limbs, but this time, a tiny noise issued from his throat. The sobs he'd kept at bay for days now bubbled up from some place deep inside him and escaped his mouth in great, heaving breaths weighed down by grief. He cried and cried and cried and did not stop for a very long time. Blair merely held him and, eventually, shifted positions so that his face was buried into her shoulder and their chests were touching.

The last time Blair had ever seen Chuck cry was when she was invited over to his house and they were both in first grade. They played in the sandbox in his grand backyard and they made elaborate designs for great sandcastles that would take weeks to build and they even ran inside to bring out sheets of paper on which to sketch their wildly imagined works of art. About an hour later, with their ambitious project underway, Eleanor came early to pick up Blair and Chuck burst into tears.

"I _need _her, Mrs. Waldorf!" he'd cried and shouted as Blair was helped into her purple pea coat. "I can't do it on my own!" he'd pouted sullenly, holding Blair's hand and not letting go.

"Your Dad'll finish it with you," had supplied a tiny Blair who knew her own father would more than love to undertake such a project with his Blair-Bear.

This only served to upset Chuck further. At this, he stamped his little leather clad feet on the marble of the Bass entryway and his sobs increased in fervor. "He won't! He won't! He doesn't do anything with me," he wept, his dark curls falling into his face. Releasing Blair's hand, he had then turned to Eleanor and tugged on her coattails, pleading, "Let Blair stay. Nate's gone to Prague and she's my second best friend…" Sniffling and reflecting for a moment, he hesitantly tried out a word he'd only heard in the movies, "Please?"

Blair spent the night and a good portion of the next day at the Bass household.

Feeling the violent shivers that undulated along his spine, she murmured reassuring things in his ear. Remembering that day, she saw now that his tears then and now were completely different. Those had been tears stemming from a petty, childish heartbreak. These were tears infused with pain that burned your skin as they slid down your face. These tears went much deeper than the flesh they rolled down; they scalded and burned your insides like acid. They stung and the intensity of his sobs must have been leaving his throat raw and sore. Therefore, she let her ten thousand dollar dress be sullied by his tears and spittle and she continued to hold him tightly, never wanting to let go. He simply cried. No words were intertwined with his sobs; it was just tears and emotion. His fluttering hands would sometimes latch onto her sides, her own hands or her arms, as if blindly searching for someone else in his sea of loneliness.

She stayed. Blair Waldorf stayed with Chuck Bass as he cried senselessly and she ran her fingers through his matted hair. She breathed silly nothings like, "Shush," or "It'll be alright," or "I'm here…" even though, normally, she wouldn't be caught dead saying ridiculously sappy things like that and meaning them… Sometimes, he would let out long, angry groans that were a mixture of every pent up emotion he'd never voiced – hating his father for not loving him, loving his father despite everything, missing his father no matter the despicable last words to his son, everything he did wrong – and Blair could tell he wanted to hit something or break something, but he didn't. He just cried. She had even steeled herself for a blow should he choose to strike her out of fury and she realized she wouldn't care; she knew he wouldn't mean it if he did… She did all of this and more… She even did something she wasn't sure anyone else had done before; she loved Chuck Bass with all her heart.

That was how they spent their first hour together.

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**Final note: **Once again, thank you for reading! It is for you, the readers, that I keep going and it is your reviews that keep the words flowing... Therefore, please leave a comment for me and it will make my humble day! Thank you once more and hoping to hear from you all! :)


	3. their second hour

**Author's note: **Hello and good evening, my darling readers! I'm so, so happy and grateful for all of the reviews you've graciously taken the time to write to me! It's your comments that keep me going and I truly couldn't ask for better readers! This story has me so inspired and I can't stop writing! The credit for this inspiration must be shared equally between Chuck and Blair as well you, my dearest readers! Please, as I've said before, if the characterizations aren't the way you'd like them or the dialogue seems off - anything! - please tell me and I'll do my best to fix everything to make this the most enjoyable story possible! However, if you're enjoying my story, then a little comment would be greatly, greatly appreciated as well. Thank you and please enjoy the second chapter! :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't like putting these as they make me sad, but: I don't own Chuck Bass or Blair Waldorf.

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**c h a p t e r 2 .**

_1 : 0 8 a . m ._

Eventually, the ardor of Chuck's sobs ebbed away and little hiccups that would have been adorable under normal circumstances echoed in the silence of Blair's room. She could tell he was making an effort to regain some control, but he was still trembling from his tears. She pulled him gently up and onto her soft bed and felt how weak he was; he succumbed to her and lay down on her pillows, exhausted. Her hands fluttered over him; straightening his jacket, brushing away stray tears and smoothing his hair. Blair then turned away and, with her feet dangling over the edge of the bed, bent down to remove her Jimmy Choos. It was quite a process to free her dainty toes from the harsh upright position those five inch heels created, but she did so with deft fingers weaving and winding her feet to sweet, sweet freedom.

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the moon spilling in from the window opposite her bed and everything was oddly peaceful. The distant clinking of glasses, laughter and chatter from her mother's wedding downstairs was easily ignorable and, barefoot, Blair scooted over closer to the heir of Bass Industries and settled in beside him, her left arm draped over him protectively.

She listened to his deep, rattling breaths and made a faraway wish that, someday, she would be able to fall asleep every night to just the sound of him beside her. "Do you want to sleep?" she asked quietly, wondering if he wanted to simply be left alone now.

"No," he replied blankly. The emptiness in his voice scared her a little – to think of a Chuck Bass without a drawl or a witty remark was a terrifying thought indeed.

"Do you… want me to just leave you be?" she wondered solemnly. This was one instance where she wouldn't be offended in the slightest if he agreed.

"No," he answered quickly and forcefully. "Please don't." he amended in a softer tone, "I'd rather not be left alone to my thoughts… They're not too pleasant," he said gruffly, but with a hint of dark humor. Even a glimmer of the old Chuck was enough to infuse Blair's heart with a hint of hope.

In the silence that followed, she took to running her hand up and down his arm absent-mindedly, "Should I talk?"

"Can you ever help yourself?" he asked with a small smile she caught curving his mouth and she almost started in surprise; his moment of light-heartedness produced soft giggles and a radiant smile that broke out upon her face. She was so caught up in him that she forgot to put on a frown of mock irritation as she normally would have…

She pulled an errant lock of his hair playfully, but soon brought her fingers up to her lips, kissed them and pressed them to his forehead in compensation, "Is that a 'yes'?" she continued with mild sarcasm.

His face had become grim once more and he nodded silently. She sobered at his quietness. "Is there anything in particular that you'd like me to talk about?" she questioned him, pursuing the conversation; it was probably best to feign normalcy, at least for the moment – distract him somewhat. Who else did he have?

That thought hit her – truly, who else _did _he have? Nate was his friend, but they seemed to have drifted apart after their spat over her and she was sure Chuck wouldn't be able to talk to Nathaniel about this, nor did she think Nate capable of knowing what to say or how to deal with his best friend's grief. Chuck's father was gone, he'd swiftly severed his ties with the Van der Woodsen's this afternoon and… there was no-one else - only Blair.

This realization shocked her to the core; she'd never fully understood how alone he was. Was that why he was the way he was? Was that why he entertained so many girls? Did they make him feel like there were more people in the world who cared about him than there actually were? Was that why he drank? Not for pleasure as he always said, but… to escape? Forget?

Blair shook the thoughts away; she could ruminate some other time… Right now, Chuck was here with her and she wasn't sure how long he would decide to stay.

He was still pondering an answer to her question earlier and she waited patiently. Slowly, he shrugged lethargically, as if the action cost him much strength, "I don't know…" Put on the spot, she began racking her brain for something interesting to say, but was interrupted when he finished his sentence, "I wouldn't mind talking with you," he added a bit sheepishly.

Blair Waldorf had never, ever heard Chuck Bass do sheepish, but it melted her heart. She supposed there was still a Hell of a lot of alcohol still left in his blood and he wouldn't be back to normal until his heart healed… The loss of his cold, harsh father had impacted him tremendously and Blair wondered if it had affected him so much _because _his father had never loved him back…

"What's your favorite kind of ice cream?" asked the young Waldorf suddenly. She and Serena constantly used to play the Question Game during sleepovers and over morning coffees and Blair was now the master of coming up with random questions. Serena had never been very good at coming up questions, but her answers were always interesting…

Chuck turned his head toward her a bit and, even though he omitted his usual eyebrow raise, his eyes traced with red registered a bit of amused shock. Who knew Blair Waldorf did casual, he was probably thinking…

Half-heartedly, he chuckled a bit and thought her question over a moment. "Strawberry," he answered decisively and Blair could definitely see Chuck Bass loving strawberry flavored ice cream for some reason…

"If you had –" Blair began, but was abruptly cut off.

"Just a second," interjected Chuck, "It's my turn to ask a question, is it not? Or am I mixing up my female sleepover games?" he asked with an almost amused tone. Every word he said was an _almost _version of the way he used to speak… He was a mere shadow of his former self and everything from his mannerisms to his voice seemed like a watered-down charade of the old Chuck Bass. The man lying in her arms was a disaster, a complete train wreck and the degree of his destruction scared her a little. She'd never felt that sort of total devastation and so she didn't know exactly how to proceed… She supposed she could do nothing but just keep trying to be there for him and love him fiercely, yet quietly.

She forged a happy smile and replied, "It _is _your turn to ask a question, oh, king of the sleepover games… I'm sorry I almost disobeyed the rules," she said with as much playfulness as she could muster.

Chuck was now staring aimlessly at a spot on her wall and the expression on his face erased her smile. The heavy sadness in the room suddenly overpowered her and it hit her like a freight train would an unsuspecting idiot wandering on the railroad. She had just been starting to feel as if things were getting better, but it had all just instantaneously fallen apart before her eyes with his face. His grief was so great that it seemed impossible to overcome. However, she refused to give into it at the moment; its great weight was crushing her Chuck and pressing down on her… She hated it, wanted it gone! If only things in real life were as simple as they were for Blair in high school. If only Chuck's sadness was like a Nelly Yuki she could just command and banish with the wave of a hand, spill her lunch on and force to pry the gum from under her Prada heels.

This unbearably poignant and immeasurable pain he was experiencing wasn't something she could get rid of with the toss of her magnificent head – it was something that needed to be worked at constantly and, eventually, she knew, he wouldn't feel sad anymore…

And she just happened to be Blair Waldorf. Therefore, if she wanted to lift a bit of the sadness, then damn it, _she would_.

Squeezing his shoulder, she only said his name only once in way she never had before, "Chuck," and it was enough to bring him back from whatever dark abyss he was visiting in his mind. The faraway glaze over his eyes melted away and he was her Chuck again, not Bart's.

"If you bought a plane ticket to go away tomorrow… Where would you go and who would you bring?" he asked in that voice hoarse from tears and almost monotone in his agony.

His question made her pulse stagger. Had he asked that on purpose or without thinking? Her answer felt obvious and she hated making herself vulnerable…

However, this didn't feel quite real; Chuck Bass curled up peacefully in her arms, dried tear streaks upon his face, her bare toes beside his black Armani shoes… It felt like she was in some sort of alternate reality where they didn't have to put up fences, play games or pretend they didn't feel something they obviously did. The four walls enclosing Blair's bedroom felt like they were enclosing so much more; a haven, a safe haven where Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf could actually be a normal couple. The couple that talked 'till two in the morning on the phone, the couple that picked off each other's plates in a restaurant and the couple Chuck has said they'd never be. He'd been so, so wrong.

"I would go to Italy with you," she answered honestly and she saw Chuck eyelids flutter shut and felt his intake of breath. They shared a minute in utter silence and they both knew. They just knew.

Soon, the question game resumed and they played on for a while more.

That was how they spent their second hour together.

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**Final note: **Thank you again and again and again for reading! I hope you liked this new chapter and I cannot wait to hear from you all! Let's see if I can crank out Chapter III as fast I did Chapter II... ;)


	4. their third hour

**Author's note: **Hello, my loveliest and most cherished readers and reviewers! Here is the next installment to "If Just For Six Hours" - this is their third hour spent together and it involves a most beautiful song that I would love everyone to listen to in order to fully immerse themselves in the story and the mood of the chapter. If you were to search for "Golden Slumbers" on youtube, I'm sure you'll be able to find it. It truly is a beautiful song, it moved me and seemed to suit the purpose I thought up for it... Therefore, with that said, I hope that you enjoy this chapter and I would simply like to thank every single person who had left a most kind review and who had taken the time to read my story. Thank you, thank you, thank you. :)

**Disclaimer: **Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf are not mine. If they were, they would have gotten together on the show far before now. ;)

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**c h a p t e r 3 .**

_2 : 0 8 a . m ._

The question game had died and silence drifted in between Chuck and Blair.

They'd shared a few smiles during the game, but Chuck had eventually retreated back into his tortured shell and getting answers from him for the last few questions was damn near impossible. Therefore, the conversation had slowly petered out and they'd settled into a silence that wasn't uncomfortable, but still felt heavy.

Swallowing softly, Blair found that she didn't mind the quiet and thought that that was probably what he needed. She had found out many new things about him and these little glimpses into his mind and heart warmed her in a funnily pleasant way from head to foot. She wondered if he'd ever had a real conversation with anyone before and just spoken about himself; what he liked, disliked, thought, so on and so forth. Oddly, even though she'd known him since he was four, had seen him unclothed and had let him touch her in ways Nate had never dared, she didn't really know his details. She knew what kind of person he was; what made him tick, what left him burning with longing, what sort of suggestive comment was resting on the tip of his tongue and which bow tie he wore on Wednesdays, but she didn't know his intricacies. She now knew that got manicures once a month, occasionally feasted on a McDonald's cheeseburger Happy Meal and hadn't the heart to throw out the toys, could whistle _"Let's Get It On"_ and took midnight walks in Central Park when he couldn't sleep (and wasn't sleeping with someone).

Not once had either of them laughed at the other. Blair didn't know why, but for some reason it would have felt wrong to laugh tonight. It didn't seem to go with the safe, caring feeling in the pit of her stomach and Chuck hadn't mocked any of her answers either. It was as if they had some sort of unspoken understanding that tonight wasn't going to resemble any of the other times they'd spent together – tonight was different. Tonight was a dabbling in the sort of relationship they'd never had and had secretly always wanted. Tonight was the only time all bets were off and guards were down. Tonight was a Chuck and Blair stripped bare of all the social pressures, expectations, smiling facades, and fake happiness they surrounded themselves with to help them believe they didn't need each other.

Tonight was the only thing in their entire relationship that felt _real_.

In the darkness of her room, she held him in her arms and hummed softly in his ear. She comically made an attempt at his favorite Barry White song and he smiled softly into the calmness of her room, but his smile didn't last for long; it sank down under the heaviness of sorrow. She reached for one of his soft hands and alternated between gently stroking her thumb along the lines of his palm and smoothing back his wild hair from his face. Soon, she was humming bars from Beatles songs and he didn't complain, so she didn't stop.

She'd always loved to sing, but had been chastised constantly as a little girl for her non-stop, out of tune renditions of countless melodies. Blair used to want to be a singer and used to belt out show-stopping set lists in the shower, in her room and even when doing homework. She'd been convinced she was the next big thing, but with Eleanor's constant nit-picking ("Could you stop, Blair?", "At least sing in key!", "Could we have quiet for a moment?") and her father's gentle advice ("Perhaps, darling, you should concentrate on your schoolwork instead…"), Blair had eventually given up her dreams of being a singing superstar years ago. Nonetheless, in stolen moments, she'd hum little bars of her favorite songs and had never stopped loving music… Her extensive CD collection in the corner of her room and her three iPod Touchs (one filled with music for studying, one filled with music to dance to alone in her room and one filled romantic music that made her sigh) were proof of her enduring love affair with song.

She hadn't sung in so long – she hadn't dared - but her little voice (which was, even after all this time, still not meant for singing) clumsily picked out the tunes to _"Here Comes the Sun", "Hey Jude"_ and _"Something" _– her everlasting favorites.

Her humming was low and slightly dissonant, but Chuck didn't seem to mind; his eyes were shut and his expression was almost tranquil. Her tiny voice drifted through the air of her shadowy room and it almost had an unearthly quality to it; a lone, shaking melody dancing shyly above their heads and attempting to break through the thick, black and blue veil of sadness enveloping them… The sweet, pure tune that contrasted so sharply with Chuck's mourning made her eyes glassy and her face pained. All of a sudden, she felt a wave of sorrow wash over her and chill her to the bone; what did this mean for them? Were they going to come away from tonight and pretend as if it never happened? Would this change everything – change him – and give them the chance they'd always wanted?

Would they only have tonight?

She was halfway through the chorus of _"The Long and Winding Road"_ when his hushed voice broke into her off-key melody.

"Sing _'Golden Slumbers'_," he whispered. The unexpected urgency in his tone cut through her song and made the weak note she was holding die in her throat. His all of a sudden intensity sliced through her and she was struck dumb. Struggling to find the melody in her head as she didn't want to disappoint him (ever), Blair searched quickly and desperately though her head to remember the words… How did it start? She knew the tune…

"La da, dee da dum," she began, but he interrupted her again.

"No," he said harshly, his shoulders stiffening and she clapped her mouth shut, stung by the violence of his displeasure. There was this poisonous temper in him that didn't show often, but when it did, it hurt. She'd seen it in him before and perhaps it was because he always managed to wear that expression of suave indifference that those fleeting moment where the power of his emotions leaked through the seams of his mask stirred a flash of terror in her heart. She understood _why _he had that corrosive anger bubbling and simmering inside of him, but it still burned those around him when his words were a product of that dormant acid. He had a moment where his muscles tensed and his entire being was strung as tightly as the strings pulled taut across a violin, but he somehow found it in him to calm down and he breathed out in a long sigh. "With words," he murmured and she heard sobs in his voice.

Finding the words in her memory in a flash, she shakily began, _"Once there was a way to get back homeward,"_ and Blair found her voice to be trembling, but more on-pitch than usual. _"Once there was a way to get back home…"_

She paused with a silent question and listened to his ragged breathing. He swallowed roughly and audibly and choked out, "Go on," paying no heed to her unspoken query.

Accepting his push to make her continue, she did just that, _"Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry," _she sang while hesitantly running the backs of her left fingers along his jaw line, _"And I will sing a lullaby."_ The whispers of stubble near his chin and lower cheek tickling the flesh of her hand, she marveled at how he let her treat him with such tenderness… Under normal circumstances, would Chuck Bass let himself be touched so shyly and soothingly?

Blair watched in fascination as tears blossomed in those somber eyes of his, slipped one by one down his face at an alarming rate and she didn't know whether to stop or continue.

"Keep going," he insisted thickly through clenched teeth. The streams of tears drew shimmering trails down his cheeks and she traced each one, trying to chase them away.

_"Golden slumbers fill your eyes,"_ she trilled almost prettily, _"Smiles awake when you rise,"_ she whispered with the ghost of a sad grin tugging at her mouth. Suddenly, she tasted salt on her lips and she realized she was crying too… _"Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry… And –"_ her voice broke momentarily, but Blair quickly recovered, _"I will sing a lullaby."_ She wasn't sure if she was going to be able to finish the song; her throat was constricting painfully and she felt her own tears trace her jaw and dribble down her neck, but Chuck's pained whimper of, "Finish," forced her to continue.

_"Once there was a way,"_ she breathed, _"to get back homeward… Once there was a way to get back home…"_ Chuck was openly sobbing at this point, but she needed to finish because he'd told her to… She couldn't seem to stop; this beautiful melody slightly warped by her less than stellar voice had cast a spell on her and she felt almost connected to Chuck in some way. She felt this overwhelming sense of melancholy running through her blood and knew that she was a part of whatever he was going through right now. She was a part of him and that made her feel good; he'd been a part of her for as long as she could remember.

_"Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry…"_ she sang with a few tremors laced into the words and paused to hold him tighter to her before she finished the song. Enveloping him firmly in her arms, she murmured, _"And I will sing a lullaby."_

She felt his body convulse in a fit of sobs and she heard him splutter and gag pitifully as he cried in an ugly manner onto her pillows. He wept loudly and painfully, but she didn't care. She made circles with her hands on his back and laid her head on his shoulder. He grabbed her hand encircling his chest and dragged her closer; Blair felt her arm torque a bit at the rough gesture, but ignored the shots of pain in her elbow and shoulder. She didn't give into her sobs, but tears poured unchecked down her face and she knew that most of her makeup had most likely disappeared by now… She imagined black lines of mascara cutting blunt stripes on her alabaster cheeks and almost laughed at the visual, but forgot the fleeting urge at the sudden sound of his voice.

"It was her fa-favorite s-song," he sobbed hollowly and his breaths were coming in heaving gasps – his fingers were curled around Blair's left hand and were like ropes cutting into her skin. Blair frowned softly at his words, not understanding, but not questioning either. "My father," he tripped over the words and doubled over in a fresh wave of cries, "s-said she'd sing it a-all the time… S-said she u-used to sing it to me all the time before –" and he stopped as he couldn't continue. His sobs sounded almost like muffled screams of agony and each one tore at her heart.

Blair felt her lower lip tremble dangerously at his words and sniffled loudly, holding herself together by a thread. There was a pressure building in her throat, behind her eyes and in her heart that was begging her to cry, to break down, but she refrained. She breathed deeply once, twice and then three times, trying to collect herself, while holding on for dear life to her Chuck. She closed her eyes and felt tears cascade down her already shimmering cheeks. Oh, Chuck…

They didn't let go of each other for quite some time, as if they were waiting for a hurricane to pass and they were each other's lifelines... Hurricane or not, they probably were each other's lifelines.

That was how they spent their third hour together.

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**Final note: **Once again, if anyone's curious about the song I used, look up "Golden Slumbers" on youtube and I'm sure you'll be able to listen to it. I really, really hope that you all enjoyed this chapter! All of the reviews you've left me so far have made me so happy and I appreciate each and every single one of them. It would be mean the world to me and more if you let me know what you're thinking, how you're liking the story so far, what could be made better, what you're liking, what you're disliking... Anything and everything on your mind! I'm here to write the story you want, so if you'd all be willing to let me know what you're thinking, that would be more than wonderful!

Have a great day everyone! :D


	5. their fourth hour

**Author's note: **Hello, my dearest readers! I'm terribly sorry this chapter has taken me so long... I'm afraid I wasn't feeling my best as I just broke up with my boyfriend of a year and a few months two weekends ago and I've been trying to get back on track. However, I'm doing better now and I simply couldn't let this story go; I love it far too much! I also love my readers and reviewers far too much to let _them _go, so here I am with Chapter 4! I really hope you all like it!

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own Chuck Bass or Blair Waldorf... 'Twould be lovely, but they aren't mine.

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**c h a p t e r 4 .**

_3 : 0 8 a . m ._

"Distract me," demanded a sniffling Chuck.

His tears had finally stopped coming and Blair was still holding onto him as if it were a matter of life and death. The last, melancholy strains of her song had long since melted into the silence in the air and everything was once again quiet.

When Blair couldn't formulate an answer, he summoned all his strength with a breath and turned his body so that he was now facing the tired girl beside him. He searched for her gaze and, after a moment, she looked up. Dark eyes traced with red met brown ones sparkling with unshed tears. Maybe it was the sadness in her eyes that made a fresh wave of tears spring to his, but Chuck Bass softened at the sight of a broken Blair Waldorf. Parting her ruby red lips, she shook her head slowly, her splayed mahogany hair rustling on the pillow. "I don't know what to say, Chuck," she whispered thickly, her voice climbing an octave on his name.

Her left arm was still draped over him and her right arm was still stuck underneath his head; Blair actually didn't have any feeling left in it, but she'd sacrifice a little blood circulation for the physical contact. It had been _far _too long since she'd been this close to him… God, everything about him – his skin, his hair, the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders and the sound of his voice… Everything about that boy enthralled her; even when his eyelids sagged under the inordinate amount of alcohol he'd consumed and his breath was nothing but searing gusts of scotch, she loved him. It was sad, it was pitiful and it was utterly twisted and wrong, but she loved him. No matter how much she'd deny it under regular circumstances, she'd do anything for him and that was scary. _No-one _had any control over Blair Waldorf; she was untamable, untouchable and unfeeling.

Or so she liked to perpetuate. The truth about her was the exact opposite of the things people thought about her and her true self was actually quite vulnerable and weak – two adjectives she loathed with a passion. Perhaps that was why she avoided Chuck; he had this kind of… power over her that she was incapable of fighting. Where others were concerned, she could swim ably and cunningly through the waters of her deceit and games. However, when Chuck came into play, she was in over her head; he made her flail and drown helplessly in the ridiculous schemes and charades she so enjoyed and he liked it. He took some sort of perverse pleasure in seeing her struggle and she hated it that he was able to put her in those sorts of situations… Nate never had.

Then again, when had Nate ever been comparable to Chuck?

His voice brought her back to reality. "Say anything," he breathed, "I don't care… As long as I hear your voice," he said seriously, not wavering in his gaze.

Her heart sped up. "What are you saying, Chuck?" she choked, her eyes alert and expression painfully expectant. She could barely get the words out… Was he going to say it?

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Blair looked at his lips and vainly tried to see if they were attempting to form 'I love you', but couldn't tell. The burning desire in her heart to hear those words fall from his lips had now spread throughout her body like wildfire. The need for his voice of velvet to formulate those three words pulsated in her entire being – every inch of her was crying out for it. She _needed _it. Proof that she wasn't dreaming that this… this thing between them wasn't just in her mind. Proof that he felt it too… Proof that she could fix him.

In that moment, she needed to hear that he loved her too more than anything.

While she smoldered silently, waiting – always waiting – for those eight letters that would set her free from these heavy shackles of secrets and unreturned feelings, she could see him groping for words.

She saw it in his face, he couldn't say them.

"Blair…" he began, but she forced a smile even as tears slipped from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She was the cool, calculating Blair Waldorf; no-one made a fool out of her twice.

"Shush, it-it's okay," she murmured, "I-"

"No, I _want _to say them," he said with intensity, his teeth gritting on the word 'want'.

All tension drained from her face. "You… You do?"

He closed his eyes and breathed, "Yes… More than anything I want to tell you those three damned words..." His grip tightened on her and she couldn't tell if it was out of desperation or frustration, "They just…" he trailed off and she could tell he was grasping for something to say.

She couldn't let this go – it wasn't often she could get him to talk to her and _really _talk to her. "They just what?" she asked, breathlessly. She knew she shouldn't push him, but she was so wrapped up in the moment. Perhaps all of the loose ends and untied strings they'd left along the way were finally to be knotted beautifully here – now. Perhaps all of the times they'd spent together, all of the things they'd said and done would finally amount to something – become something. Would they finally get somewhere instead of simply going in tantalizing circles?

"They just don't make a difference," he whispered with shining eyes.

Blair's heart fell and shattered somewhere in her breast – was he saying that those words she'd said this afternoon had meant absolutely nothing to him? Her hold on his slackened and her face must have looked quite blank and devastated, for her entire being had momentarily lost all feeling and her mind wasn't working. She began trembling and knew she couldn't hold them in any longer.

One sob. It escaped her like the air from a balloon pricked by a pin. Her breath hitched in her throat and, looking up and into his eyes, those stupid words slipped from her lips by mistake, "But I love you," she murmured through tears. Her hands recoiled from his body, all hope lost, and she drew into herself; she hugged her hands to her chest and felt the sobs wrack through her entire, weak form. "I love you," she said softly and her heart broke clean in two at the now bittersweet words – they hadn't meant anything to him…

However, for a moment, she felt light; as if saying those words alleviated her of that long-kept secret. "I love you," she said again and she felt those same little tremors ripple along her flesh. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…" She was unstoppable. Again and again she said those words quietly – quiet enough they were almost comparable to silence – and she didn't stop. "I love you," she pressed her hands firmly down on her heart as if trying to put it back together. "I love you," she breathed in his scent. "I love you," she felt another tear slip down her cheek. "I love you…"

She said those three words for all the times Bart hadn't. "I love you…"

She said those three words for all those times his mother couldn't. "I love you…"

She said those three words for all the times she should have. "I love you…"

She those three words because they were true. "I love you…"

It was as if something in her had snapped and the words were flowing from her as would water from a broken dam – almost as if, if she stopped, she would never be able to say those words again. She didn't dare open her eyes for she knew that if she did, she would lose all courage to say them ever again when she saw his face. There was no hiding now; he now knew how she felt about him and she could never take these words back. They were now out in the open. He could now use them in the game she was tired of playing if he wanted, but she didn't care – _couldn't care_ – about that right now.

Somehow – she didn't know why or how she did it – her eyelids suddenly fluttered open and she sought his gaze with hers. Finding his eyes to be already upon her and filled with an emotion she couldn't place, she sobbed, "I love you, Chuck Bass," with an ardor that surprised even herself. "I think that those words _do _make a difference," she spat with fervor, "and I'm not just saying them to make you feel better, or even to make you say them back. I'm saying them because they're the truest thing I've ever told you and because, to me, they mean _everything_," she paused for breath, "Everything in the world." Her lips trembled and she felt her resolve crumbling, "And I'm saying them to _you_."

This time, when her crying resumed, she wasn't left alone to comfort herself; his arms were around her in seconds and her body was brought flush to his. Her hands latched onto the lapels of his crumpled shirt and she buried her face into his chest. Blair's tears dampened his clothes and she whispered, "How can you say they don't mean anything?"

She felt his breath blow across the top of her head and his chin press into her forehead. She clung to him as he'd clung to her when she sang the song and she unwittingly noted how they both needed each other.

"I know they must mean something," he said slowly, his tired voice scraping along his throat and sending chills up her spine. "It just feels like… for me… they don't work," he whispered. "I can feel them – _I do_," he almost pleaded with passion, "but they don't make a difference…"

"They _do_," breathed Blair into his shoulder, "I love you, Chuck," she bit out. "_I love you_. That's not going to change," she promised solemnly.

He didn't answer and so she took the opportunity to take a risk she wouldn't normally take if she were thinking straight. "I'm not like Bart, Chuck," she said and felt his body tense at the name, "I love you back. I'll say it as many times as it takes to sink in. I'll keep saying it until you're not afraid anymore to say it back." She took a deep breath and the sane part of Blair Waldorf was left reeling by her crazy honesty. "And," she choked on the leftover sobs lodged in her throat, "if you feel the same way, just tell me, and I will say those three words to you until they are ringing in your ears and you believe that Blair Waldorf, does indeed, love Chuck Bass." Her words choked her up and emotion made her voice waver and a fresh wave of hot tears burn her eyes.

"God, Blair…" he murmured, his lips brushing the flesh of her brow and the sensation sent pleasant ripples along her spine. "I... I…"

For the first time in her life, the Queen B forgot how to breathe.

It seemed that both sets of lungs in the room went unused for the next few moments in the room and not a sound permeated the air. Then, the soft swoosh of bodies moving, clothing and covers brushing against each other broke the silence and Chuck took Blair's hands in his. Her remaining tears stuck to her black eyelashes as she watched his face; he was dead serious, but his jaw was clenched in emotion.

Uncurling her fingers, he exposed her palm and brought the tip of his index to the warm flesh. Slowly, making sure that she caught everything, he traced and 'I'.

Next he traced:

'L'

'O'

'V'

'E'

'Y'

'O'

'U'

And a flimsy heart to finish it off.

When he was done, Blair was left staring at her hand with a vague wonderment adorning her features. Lifting her head to meet his fiery gaze, she couldn't stand another moment without having her mouth on his and Blair Waldorf quickly slanted her lips over Chuck Bass'.

It was a kiss that tasted of tears, scotch, endings, beginnings and everything that mattered.

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**Final note:** And there you have it. I would just like to take this opportunity to thank every single person who took the time to leave me such kind and thoughtful reviews. They all mean the world and more to me (you have no idea) as it is for you, the reader, that I write. Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times over and I hope with all of my heart that you all enjoyed the newest chapter! Once again, if there's something you're not enjoying or really enjoying please let me know, as I want to do everything in my power to make this the best story for you. :)

Thank you!


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